God Loves Haiti

by Dimitry Elias Léger

A native of Haiti, Dimitry Elias Léger makes his remarkable debut with this story of romance, politics, and religion that traces the fates of three lovers in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, and the challenges they face readjusting to life after an earthquake devastates their city.

Reflecting the chaos of disaster and its aftermath, God Loves Haiti switches between time periods and locations, yet always moves closer to solving the driving mystery at its center: Will the artist Natasha Robert reunite with her one true love, the injured Alain Destiné, and live happily ever after? Warm and constantly surprising, told in the incandescent style of José Saramago and Roberto Bolaño, and reminiscent of Gabriel García Márquez’s hauntingly beautiful Love in The Time of Cholera, God Loves Haiti is an homage to a lost time and city, and the people who embody it.

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Literary Fiction, Adult Fiction, Novels, Adult

262 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 6, 2015

About the author

Dimitry Elias Léger was born in 1971 in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, and raised in both Port-au-Prince and New York City. Educated at St. John’s University and Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government, he has worked as a journalist and a humanitarian. He has been a staff editor and writer at prominent news outlets like Fortune magazine, The Miami Herald, and The Source magazine, the seminal hip-hop music and culture monthly, and he has also been published in The New York Times, The Washington Post, The New York Observer, and The Face magazine in the UK. In 2010, he served as a spokesperson for United Nations disaster relief programs in Haiti in the immediate aftermath of a devastating earthquake. He lives with his family in France.

Reviews

[BookOfCinz · Rating 3 out of 5]

Dimitry Elias Leger writes about an important time in Haiti's history. I loved that the story was told from the POVS of a politician, his wife and his wife's lover.

The story opens immediately following the earthquake and we see all three characters trying to navigate their new reality. If you love Haitian literature, add this to your list.

[Andre(Read-A-Lot) · Rating 4 out of 5]

This could have been a 5 star review, if not for the hasty ending. The initial inclination is to question the title, how can God love Haiti given their history.

The priest states: "the earthquake was the latest sign that God loves Haiti. He loves you. Of course God loves Haitians. Why else would He encourage us to keep our faces pressed against the windows of great American and European wealth and grandeur, so close yet cruelly far, like a nation of Holly Golightlys? Why else would He chin-check us every couple of years with trying natural disasters--an earthquake here, a few hurricanes there, with a dash of floods? Why else would He constantly tempt our rich and powerful to be corrupted by short-term profits in an almost barren world?"

This he states to Natasha, the novel's protagonist as she is lamenting the devastation of physical damage and her own emotional and personal upheaval. Of course you're in for a little bit of humor when you start this novel, because the setting of the book is in Haiti right after the devastating earthquake of 2010 in the capital area. At the bottom of this quick read is a love story of humorous proportions. The description of Haiti and Haitians is so vibrant and vivid, it will make you contemplate a visit.

A fun read from a promising author.

[William · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really liked this book. It wasn't what I expected. Having read my fair share of rather depressing but hopeful stories of Haiti, I was expecting more of the same. But this novel is mostly comic. But it could hardly be a novel of Haiti without a liberal dose of tragedy inside too. Oh and it's a pretty decent love story too. Built around the devastating earthquake of 2010 in Haiti's capital city , the story finds our star crossed lovers shortly after coitus in the presidential mansion. That one of the lovers is the president's wife and the other not the president gives the tale it's impetus. Trying to find and hold on to each other as the walls both literally and figuratively come crumbling down make for an engaging read. The author does not shy away from the tragedy of trying to survive when a people have mostly nothing ad even that is suddenly taken away by a seemingly vengeful God. We get bits of Haitian history and politics thrown in and some current events and cast aspersions: i.e. U.S. machinations. But the book is largely apolitical as it goes. (though there is a scene of the president begging for his islands survival before the U.N in NYC) The political statement is implicit in the grinding poverty less than a few hundred miles from the richest nation on earth.
My only quibble is that in the authors concentration on the main characters some others, Like the American actor patterned after the hollywood dogooders that appear after every catastrophe were not very well developed and seemed just a nod to our need for the familiar. His character added little depth.
It was a great debut.

[Maria · Rating 4 out of 5]

A question for those who have read this book: What happened to Xavier?!?!?!

OK, now that I've gotten that off my chest....overall, I enjoyed this slight novel. I loved the 2010 (yes, that long ago already!) Haiti earthquake as the backdrop for this story. Someone else made what I think it is the perfect observation about this book ... some books are literary, some books are entertainment, but this book is both.

[Tripfiction · Rating 4 out of 5]

Novel set in Haiti (a bit of goudou goudou)

The pall and detritus hang thick over Port au Prince, where the earthquake of January 2010 has decimated the city and its people. Well over 100,000 people died and the aftershocks continued for quite some time “…death was so spectacularly random and massive…”

Léger is hugely adept at capturing the mood, fear and the feel of such a cataclysmic event – the UN peacekeepers pour in, the planes hover overhead, the dust floats around and settles and then spirals again. Against this backdrop he sets what is billed a ‘romantic comedy’, a musical theatre intertwined with a puff of magical realism: the odd ghost surfaces, and Saint Peter challenges the dead as they try and negotiate their way into Heaven. In the aftermath the accoutrements of normal life arrive in the shape of an Evian bottle and a sandwich, proffered by the likes of Captain Waugh, a dark-eyed London cop turned blue-helmeted neocolonialist masquerading as a peacekeeper.

Artist Natasha Robert is a newlywed, but not just any newlywed. From an achingly poor background, she is now married to the president of Haiti and at the point of the earthquake, they are just boarding their plane that will whisk them to a new future in Italy – an infinitely better prospect than their presidential predecessors, one of whom has landed, defrocked, in South Africa, another exists in the Central African Republic. As the earthquake strikes, Natasha in slow motion it almost seems, mounts the steps of the plane, but she is fraught with concern for her future with her 40 year older husband, having just abandoned her lover – it was a clear and abrupt ending of that relationship prior to her departure, and naturally her lover, the eponymously named Alain Destiné is indeed left to ponder his destiny, in the nude, locked in a thickly carpeted closet, in the Presidential Palace.

Post earthquake, Natasha flees to the National Cathedral where the ‘tone of grave and perpetual mourning’ reflects her own sombre and guilt-ridden mood, where she keeps the dying Monsignor company. But soon the ecclesiastical environment exerts its influence over her and the story moves on. What becomes of Natasha, Alain and the President?

This is a picaresque novel with more than a nod to Voltaire’s Candide, sharp wit and insightful portrayals of the human condition. Combine the corrupt politics, morals, culture of Haiti and some sexual shenanigans, there is a solid building block for a story. This is a novel, full of colour and vibrancy but as fractured as the lives it describes.

The review first appeared on our blog: http://www.tripfiction.com/novel-set-...\

[Beverly · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thoughts coming shortly
This is an impressive debut

[Amanda · Rating 4 out of 5]

So much can be (and has been) said and written of Haiti, of who and what she is, her history, her people, her prospective future. The title of Léger's book succinctly recognizes and speaks to this - undoubtedly giving pause, prompting the reader to consider if he is positing such a declaration in earnest or acrid irony. In fact, God Loves Haiti as a whole astutely puts the onus on the reader to determine the statement for themselves, while sifting through the figurative post-earthquake rubble and riddled history Léger presents in literary form.
**Any textual references made unfortunately will not include page numbers, since I read the novel in digital format.

God is indeed omnipresent in the novel, and seemingly permeates every crevice and circumstance. Though often not in a sanctified, ceremonious or even welcomed way, but (much to the chagrin of the characters) as an ubiquitous bystander to individual and collective plight. Characters express their outrage and vexation at this throughout the narrative, at disparate points and to varying degrees. Overt post-disaster themes (death, loss, and shaken faith) abound, with characters consistently questioning God's hand and stake not just in their own stories, but in their country's. Natasha's preoccupation with Dante (of "Divine Comedy" fame) was reflective of this, as was the President's brief, other-worldly realm stint where he came face-to-face with his post's predecessors ("God Is on Line One"). The latter was a particularly inventive way to incorporate figures inherent to Haiti's past into the narrative.

God Loves Haiti imparts so much verity not just to those well-acquainted with Haiti's history, but to the uninitiated as well. I often found myself making note of and re-reading passages that struck without warning. And somehow, Léger was adeptly able to speak to both subsets simultaneously, void of heavy-handedness. Quite remarkable, given the sheer weight of Haiti's past and present. He fluidly executes this through characters that breathe historical and cultural insights without sermonizing or affectation. To me, this was God Loves Haiti's greatest strength: conveying the reality of Haiti with an approachable candor that did not attempt to mollify.

Although I didn't feel particularly connected to any of the principal characters (aside from occasionally rooting for Alain), I did appreciate some of the more nuanced details included, like the reader not learning the President's actual name until the last chapter. Repeated mention of and emphasis on the brevity (just 35 seconds) of the earthquake itself, juxtaposed with its expansive, longer-term repercussions effectively relayed the gravity of Haiti's post-earthquake circumstances. Mention of cell phones incessantly ringing and chiming under rubble all over Port-au-Prince in the midst of rescue and recovery was particularly haunting ("Looking for a Needle In the Rubble"). The chaos is only compounded by outside presence (in the form of humanitarian aid workers), which Léger markedly makes known has been an infiltration tactic of foreign powers (under the guise of altruism) with regard to Haiti more or less since its inception ("God Is on Line One"). And yet, the compulsion to make "deals with the devil" as it were, for the sake of collective survival (and at times, personal gain) ("Gangsters In New York").

Structurally, the passage of time in the novel in the aftermath of the earthquake became hard to follow. At certain points, I often questioned had it been mere days? Or weeks? It would have been helpful to have this denoted in some way (even overtly indicated under each chapter name?). Yet, this also could have been intentional: to mirror the inexplicable loss and lapse of something as seemingly insignificant as time, in the face of such a devastating act of God. I also felt that Natasha's extremely sudden adoption of nunhood was completely left field. Unfortunately, the ending in general felt as rushed and impulsive as Philippe and Fabiola's nuptials ("The Voodoo Wedding"), and the Epilogue's meager attempt to tie everything off with a neat bow felt out of place and far-fetched - the President having a role in the child's life as her "uncle"??. And I was left wondering what became of Xavier, given his unwavering attachment to Alain in Place Pigeon?

God Loves Haiti is a love letter of sorts. It grapples with the notions of fate, destiny, resurrection, and divine intervention (or lack thereof) within its pages. And while its ending was lackluster, the overall ingenuity with which Léger rendered his homage to the earthquake and the people of Haiti is noteworthy. In reverence of this I've rounded my rating up to 4 stars, although if I could I would give the novel a solid 3.5 (mostly due to the ending). Ultimately, it is left up to the reader to decide if God's love for Haiti indeed runs genuine and deep, or is, in actuality, callously feigned.



Noteworthy lines & passages:

"But there’s no history of earthquakes in Haiti. None whatsoever. His parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents never mentioned it. And picking apart the nation’s colorful, sorrowful, and thrilling history is all Haitians do. It’s a sport, the fucking national pastime. History is all we have to take pride in, since our greatest achievement occurred in 1804, and we hadn’t contributed fuck-all to humanity in the intervening two centuries save a few good books and paintings. Dining out on the heroes of independence of 1804 allowed Haitians to overlook the mess we made of the present. No one would have overlooked a major earthquake in this society’s, and indeed the world’s, constant search for proof that Haitians are or aren’t God’s children, put on one of earth’s most beautiful corners to suffer absurd streams of misfortune." ("Welcome to Place Pigeon")

“Maybe the earthquake shook away my Haitianness, our supposed innate capacity to grin and bear all God’s sick jokes." ("Welcome to Place Pigeon")

“You never love something more than the moment you believe it to be lost." ("God Is on Line One")

"They apologized for the lack of air conditioning. It should be operational in the morning, they said. The President chased away a bitter thought about how these Americans—and all foreigners in Haiti, to him, were either American or largely funded by America, which made them, often, even more American—could have all these creature comforts and resources so at the ready, so nearby, that they could mobilize them so quickly after such a disaster. The air conditioning in my office at the National Palace hasn’t worked in a year, but I’ll have an air-conditioned tent in the middle of an airport runway within twenty-four hours of the nation’s destruction. The irony. The American armed forces had sent a slew of giant airplanes. His gracious hosts were beginning an informal occupation, a tightening of a grip meant to keep his country stable, which was a far cry from healthy, and a galaxy away from developed or even developing." ("God Is on Line One")

The whole world is with Haiti, the foreigners told him. The outpouring of aid is unprecedented. You are not alone. That’s how the officers concluded each briefing. For some reason, each time he heard the pat phrases he cringed. This is between us and God, he wanted to say. We appreciate your help. Could you please leave our island now?" ("God Is on Line One")

"Today, the absence of scruples in his charm made her feel ordinary, small. A silver-tongued coward’s plaything. Marie Antoinette with a melanin overdose." ("The Prayer")

"... inspiring her to inch closer to loving him, or at least to the point where she began experiencing glimmers of love’s cousins—affection, tenderness, awe, faith—toward him, but not quite love, for she was naturally frugal with her love, nipping it in the bud early and often in her young life except once." ("The Prayer")

"Her mother was an authority on begging, for she was a beggar, une professionelle. So there was no point in begging God, Maman scolded. Few men and women in the history of the world had begged God for mercy and better fortunes than her good, Catholic people had for the last five centuries. Look what that’s gotten you? If you want something, her mother said, you better not even whisper it to your so-called God, not if you really want it. You think I’m bad, but no one says no more consistently than Him." ("The Prayer")

"We inherited a bad hand and are doing the best we can with it. That’s the only explanation he had for Haiti’s seemingly unstoppable decline from the pearl of the Caribbean during the colonial era to the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere postindependence. In his sixty years, he had yet to hear a better explanation." ("The Coward")

"Métélus’s boy? he said. You letting that little runt get to you? What’s wrong with you, son? Did you punch him in his face after he insulted you? Did you punch him and tell him that Dominicans and Haitians don’t exist? It’s one damn island, one country of people stuck on an island in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. We’re the same squirrels trying to get nuts from the same stingy bastards." ("The Coward")

"You see, some Dominicans never got over the fact that their people are Haitian. African, Indian, with a dash of European. Haitian. The island was one country for a long time, for a longer time than it’s been artificially separated by the Americans. The propaganda that keeps us separated is ridiculous. Oh, we don’t share everything. Over there, they have a thing for Christopher Columbus that’s pretty embarrassing. No one else in the hemisphere likes that motherfucker. We prefer to celebrate the people who stood up to the Spanish conquistadors. Here, we love our African soul. Not in the DR. They love their Spanish roots. It’s no big deal. To each his own God be true, right? However, being mad at sharing our ancestry is like being mad at being called human. The human condition has no mysteries for us Haitians, does it, son? We take its best and its worst, with a shrug and a chuckle and a glass of rum." ("The Coward")

"History was not her thing, nor was patriotism, but Natasha felt a loss of something dear and big and common to all Haitians at the sight of the seat of her country’s leadership destroyed, with its guts spilling out on a grassy knoll. This should not have been allowed to happen, was an immediate thought. This is how much God hates the Republic of Haiti, was another." ("Looking for a Needle In the Rubble")

"They needed a scapegoat. It’s natural. When you can’t blame God or his girlfriend, Mother Nature, or you can blame them but get little satisfaction from holding a grudge against our invisible overlords, it makes much more sense to look askance at the head of state." ("The Gangsters of New York")

"The fog of natural disasters had a lot in common with the more well known fog of war. The confusion caused by the chaos of war and battle, which had been practically patented by the Americans since World War II, shrouded Port-au-Prince. The notable difference between the fog of disaster and the fog of war, however, may be that the state of perplexity created by natural disasters comes with the added deprivation of a specific asshole for victims and revenge-seekers to blame for their rotten luck The pacifying anger that comes from blaming other nationalities, ethnic groups, or religions for stunning sudden losses escapes those struck by disaster. So does its temporary relief from grieving and rebuilding. Without righteous rage, what are you left with." ("Caged Bird Song")

"But, Father, if that disaster wasn’t the apocalypse, an end of all things, what was it? Punishment? That’s what some people believe, you know.
A test, child. Goudou-goudou was a test. That’s all it was. A test. You’ve read your share of Bible stories. You know God puts the people he loves the most through the worst sacrifices. If you ask me, this is one of the easiest tests we’ve faced in a long time.
The priest chuckled, then coughed.
Why do you say that, Father?
Well, for one, it wasn’t subtle. It was so loud I still can’t hear anyone more than a meter away from me. Every Haitian alive knows it happened, got its message, and responded to it in a way that revealed the limits and strengths of their character and faith. They now know full well how to improve their standing with God and Jesus based on their behavior. Jesus still loves them, but they will find lying about who they are and could be to themselves much harder. Second, the damage the earthquake caused was mostly physical! Rebounding from physical loss, even on that scale, should be a piece of cake for a people who so ably recovered from decades of slavery. The old Port-au-Prince was a city they inherited. The new city will be the one they create for themselves. It’s a rare opportunity to start over fresh. You don’t get many of those in this life. Can they? Can you? It’s not a bad question."
Intellectually, that makes sense. Emotionally the whole thing is baffling.
I know it is. Which leads to my third point: the earthquake was the latest sign that God loves Haiti.
He what?
He loves you. Of course God loves Haitians. Why else would He encourage us to keep our faces pressed against the windows of great American and European wealth and grandeur, so close yet so cruelly far, like a nation of Holly Golightlys? Why else would He chin-check us every couple of years with trying natural disasters—an earthquake here, a few hurricanes there, with a dash of floods? Why else would He constantly tempt our rich and powerful to be corrupted by short-term profits in an almost barren world? Finally, why else, dear child, would God make our life so hard yet so sweet on an island so beautiful yet so, so fragile? Think about it: The moral of most stories in the Bible is that God’s chosen people, Adam, Eve, Abraham, the whole lot, will constantly be asked by Him to make the greatest personal sacrifices possible to honor His mysterious glory. The way we Haitians suffer misfortune, deprivation, and disproportionate foreign enmity is right in line with the fate of chosen peoples throughout history. Biblically speaking anyway. God may love us too much, I’d say." ("Caged Bird Song")

"...because in the brave new world they lived in since goudou-goudou, they understood that love shouldn’t wait. Death wouldn’t." ("Women")

"...but the artist was never wrong; neither was she often right; but that was not the point of art, art existed in a place beyond right or wrong, rich or poor; so does life, for that matter, in many ways, if the Bible or Haitian history is to be believed." ("A Voodoo Wedding")

[Mrsmac · Rating 2 out of 5]

I appreciated the opportunity to get an on the ground narrative of what some may have experienced during the 2010 earthquake, and the various players, nations and NGOs that came in to provide. “Aid”. I also loved the rich use of language /vocabulary - had to look up more than few words. I learned a bit about Haitian culture/history but admit some of the satire was likely lost on me because I am not steeped in the cultural norms of the country. All that being said, the blasphemous language in this book left a bitter taste in my mouth. The title suggests God loves Haiti, and the authors love and Haiti and her people shine through, but my sense from this book is the author does not love God. I realize this is not a book on religion or theology. I also know enough about Haiti to know no true tale of Haiti could ignore the interesting blend or religious practices and beliefs which are part of its history and culture. The author’s inflammatory language in this case, stood in contrast with the compassion with which he told of other unique or curious aspects of Haitian culture. In any case, the book did whet my appetite for more reading centered around Haitian culture, but I will need to choose the author more carefully. This book was showcased in a display devoted to African/Africa American authors at my library and I literally chose it based on the title and the dust jacket reviews...

[Marley Ryann · Rating 5 out of 5]

“The way we Haitians suffer misfortune, deprivation, and disproportionate foreign enmity is right in line with the fate of chosen people throughout history, Biblically speaking anyway. God may love us too much, I’d say.”

i picked up God Loves Haiti as part of my attempt to better understand that nation, that borders the DR which i frequent, and my god, it floored me. the unimaginable loss and devastation haiti has experienced makes it difficult to comprehend how love and faith in a loving god could possibly continue to exist in such a place. Léger’s writing is stunning, every word carefully chosen and woven together in a devastating, lyrical, gut-wrenching and surprisingly humorous tapestry.

absolutely incredible, incredible, incredible powerful little book. easy five stars.

[Becky · Rating 3 out of 5]

Slow start for me but it picked up 1/2 way & then-boom, a fast ending!

This book starts with a newlywed couple leaving Haiti-she is young & also in love with someone else, the new groom is older & happens to be the President of Haiti. As they are walking up the steps of the plane- the earthquake hits!!

I had a hard time following the time line, but I guess semi irrelevant.

The story is central to three main characters, Natasha, her husband & her lover. We get small bits & pieces of each of their lives & how they intersect.

I liked the book but I did find it hard to follow at times.

[G · Rating 4 out of 5]

Just as the president of Haiti is about to flee his country on America's orders, just as his new wife is regretting having abandoned her true love, just as that true love is trying to escape the closet she's locked him in: just then, an earthquake hits and hundreds of thousands die.

And yet this is a surprisingly cheery book.

Its characters are full of light and prayer even as they're also reeling from an unthinkable disaster and countless dead. (Natasha, the president's wife, thinks in the immediate aftermath that "an angel lay dead at her feet." Many times someone marvels with shock but little anger that, for all the many calamities to hit Haiti over the years, man-made or otherwise, there's never been an earthquake! And the earth is described as vomiting, as heaving, as catapulting cars "into the Caribbean sky by an invisible and powerful force.") It isn't treacly, it isn't preaching, it isn't a novel about finding God so much as it is a novel that knows God - whoever He is - has been in every moment, good or bad, in the survivors finding each other or as the Cathedral crumbles.

"Of course God loves Haitians," the priest cries, "The way we Haitians suffer misfortune, deprivation, and disproportionate foreign enmity is right in line with the fate of chosen peoples throughout history. Biblically speaking anyway. God may love us too much, I'd say." But at the same time: "Fucking God, Alain thought...his new God was no God. Fuck God. There was death and there was life filled with micromoments to fill before death." But again, lest you think all is bitterness: "Alain smiled at the irony of an atheist like him hoping the depth of others' faith in God would save his life."

And for a novel set in the suffocating Caribbean heat, in which the all-but-powerless president sacrifices his pride for his people (but also considers the sacrifice of having his wife's lover murdered versus the sacrifice of allowing him to live): for all that it's one of few novels built around a huge body count that will allow you, even beg you, to smile. "If prostitution is the oldest profession," the story muses, "telecommunications is the newest profession."

That days after the quake fried food stalls are back up and running is a sign that life is back up and running - that Haitians take control of organizing the refugee camps, while international aid is depicted as a swarm of malicious intent, the West sending tents and soldiers not so much out of the kindness of their hearts but because it's another chance to sink hooks into the country, is a sign that no one in this novel is naive or in need of paternalistic rescue - that there is a wedding amongst the dead and the groom wears a red suit is a statement of triumph - that the gravediggers try to respect the bodies they bury even as the overwhelming number of bodies rotting in the sun means burials are held en mass via bulldozer is a promise to make the hard decisions and then endure the results.

The dreaded love triangle is handled with care and concern for all three characters - the president, his wife, and her lover, all of whom are changed by the quake in different ways, all of whom come together in different ways even as they are pulled down different roads by the disaster. The president, latest in a long line of ineffective or corrupt presidents, worrying at his fate; his young artist wife, desperate for stability, worrying at hers; the lover, Alain, who should be worrying more about his wounded leg than he is, but finds community-without-expectation among the quake survivors.

Dimitry Leger treats it all with tenderness. You'll root for an ending that gives all three what they want, even knowing they can't possibly all have it.

That said, the ending is rushed and far too neat. Leger found ways to write life in the chaos, somehow, but only for as long as his characters were in that chaos - without it the air of mystery, the sense that in this new trembling Haiti anything is possible, is lost, and Leger settles for predictability instead.

Without the epilogue this might have been a five-star novel. But it's wonderful regardless for what it is: a minor miracle of hope in what the media tells us is a hopeless place.

[Byron · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tragic though it was, I hadn't seen any books, movies and what have you based on the earthquake that hit Haiti in early 2K10. You can probably guess why that was. (Come to think of it, I guess there was that chapter in Infinite Crab Meats on Wyclef's fake charity.) Thankfully, there's now this book. God Loves Haiti is a deeply touching (nullus) and surprisingly amusing story about a love triangle set in the immediate aftermath of the quake.

The first lady, a young artist, is about to bolt the island for Italy, for good, with the president, an old-ass man, but she's secretly in love with this other guy, whom she's locked in a closet in the national palace, or whatever it's called, which of course was destroyed in the quake. The quake, as the saying goes, changes her whole perspective on shit. Meanwhile, turns out the guy didn't really die in the national palace, unbeknownst to the first lady.

It's a classic rom-com scenario, right out of the song "Two Princes," but with a denouement (if that's a correct use of the term) suitable for guys and/or adults, all set against the backdrop of a devastatingly vivid depiction of what may have honestly been the worst thing to happen in the past five years or so -- which is saying something!

[Anne Goodwin · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Haitian earthquake of 2010 makes an unusual setting for a romantic comedy, but this novel manages to beautifully balance the devastating impact of the unexpected seismic event alongside celebrating bonds of affection and the resilience of the human spirit. A love triangle between twenty-year-old artist Natasha Robert; her new husband, the president, forty years her senior; and Alain, the lover she has abandoned in the hope of escaping the confines of her native country. The novel opens with a bang in the rubble of the airport, with the reader sharing Natasha’s initial disorientation; only moments before, she was climbing the steps to the plane that was to take her and her husband to a better life in Italy.
Full review and giveaway coming soon to my blog http://annegoodwin.weebly.com/annecdo...

[Alesa · Rating 5 out of 5]

How could a book about the terrible earthquake in Haiti be luminous? Especially if its themes are political corruption, betrayal, and the sad fate of the arts in a poor country? Well, this novel is. I couldn't stop reading it. It's a fascinating look into both Haitian culture, and the human heart, with all of their idiosynchrasies and confusion.

"Haitian women and their steel decisiveness mystified me like no other in much the same way they mystified my father... We men, we debate. Women, they act. We sing. They make the drums. We dither, lord, we dither. They build. My father did tell me that if I got more than second breath of chaleur from one, I should grab on to her mighty hips and never let go or bruise them. And my father was right." Great writing. Great plot. Highly recommended.

[Kayle]

I'm torn. I loved Léger's writing. His prose is lovely and really allows you to focus on the characters as humans and not just victims of the 2010 Haitian earthquake or goudou-goudou. I also liked that he addresses international politics and Haitian history in pithy sentences without it feeling forced. I didn't like the ending as it's not what I wanted to have happen, but what happens is fitting and good for all the characters. I think.

[Samuel Van · Rating 1 out of 5]

Terribly cheesy story about the quake. Really a very bad attempt at a novel. Often reads like children’s literature – which I suppose it might well be if it weren’t for the intertextual instances which are especially lost on young adults and children. Some bits were good, but mostly this can’t be called a novel because it lacks sophistication, depth, character development, realism, originality, and so forth. Such a shame.

[Gloria · Rating 4 out of 5]

A novel about the 2010 earthquake that devastated Haiti might sound depressing, but this one isn't. Instead, it is funny, sad, touching, and uplifting. #ReadHarder #AuthorOfOppositeGender

[Molly O'Keefe · Rating 4 out of 5]

so far this is pretty freaking amazing!

[Sophia Timm · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wow. I totally devoured this book. I’ve always been a sucker for historical fictions and Léger’s style of story-telling made this novel compelling to read!

[Cheryl Gatling]

As this book opens, the ground is shaking, and all the people, and most of the buildings, are falling down. Thousands are dead, and the inured survivors are being tended by blue helmets and by European and American aid workers. One of those wounded survivors is a 20 year old woman named Natasha who is lying on the airplane runway. This part takes place in a kind of slow motion, as a series of flashbacks explains how we got here.

Natasha was a poor artist selling her work on the street when she attracted the attention of a rich older man who just happened to be the President of Haiti. Natasha had a boyfriend already, Alain, who seemed to be some kind of entrepreneur with a lot of potential. But Natasha married the President because, you know, she was poor, and he could provide her a secure life.

The President doesn't seem like a bad guy. He seems to have a genuine affection for Natasha. He is, however, a bad president. He is indecisive and overwhelmed by the demands of the job. Governing Haiti is nearly impossible, anyway, since there is almost no money to do anything with. Natasha and the President agree he is going to give it up. He is going to quit and retire to Italy. It is while they are boarding the plane that the earthquake hits.

Alain, meanwhile, is locked in a closet in the national palace. Natasha had locked him there after their last fling so that he couldn't do anything to prevent her from leaving. He does escape, before the building collapses, but finds himself in the park with an injured leg.

After the earthquake, the President surprises everyone, including himself, by becoming an effective leader, directing rescue efforts, obtaining funds for rebuilding, and being a strong center for his (literally) shaken people. Natasha goes off looking for Alain. Thinking him dead, she wanders into he partially ruined cathedral, and stays. The old pries there had welcomed her in as a child, and helped her start on the road to art by painting stained glass windows.

Alain, meanwhile, stays in the park where he had woken up, which has become a refugee camp. He has a home he could go to, but since he believes Natasha dead, he sees no point in it. There Alain makes new friends, including an orphaned boy, and a washed-up American actor Alain calls Hollywood.

It has been said that this is the funniest book every written about a natural disaster, and that might be true. I didn't find it laugh-out-loud funny, but the writing is witty, and with a light touch, the author plays on the absurdity of many of the situations. Tangents allow for many silly reminiscences, and amusing dialogue. The title, God Loves Haiti, comes from one of these asides. An old priest had claimed that God loves Haiti precisely because of all its misfortunes. Why exactly? Because it builds character? That part was a little unclear.

So what will happen to the lovers? Not what I expected. Probably not what you expected. It isn't a conventional happy ending. But it is not exactly an unhappy ending, either.

[Aimee Dars · Rating 3 out of 5]

In God Loves Haiti, Natasha Robert, a beautiful young artist who always dreamed of leaving Haiti, married the President when he promised to take her to Italy. In so doing, she left her soulmate, Alain Destiné, who she loved but could not give her the future she envisioned. However, as Natasha was climbing the steps up to the plane that would take her from her home, a devastating earthquake struck Port-au-Prince, destroying much of the city and killing thousands upon thousands of people.

The earthquake changes them all irrevocably, challenging their confidence and leadership, calling into question their faith, changing their career trajectories, and even threatening their very lives. Though Natasha thought she had resolved the love triangle before she left, that, too, was brought to the surface as emotions under the surface came to bear with the force of the aftershocks.

As Léger unravels the story of the lovers, he reveals details of Haiti in the aftermath of the earthquake: the overwhelming death and destruction; the overcrowded and at times dangerous refugee camps; the well-meaning, though at times ineffectual, relief workers; the Western governments and United Nations exerting power in exchange for aid (as they did before the earthquake); and the Hollywood star who came to help for absolution.

Although I thought the ending was fitting, I did not care at all for the epilogue and though it was cheap and unnecessary. I was also distressed to encounter the phrase “could care less” as well as multiple typos. Still, I haven’t read many books set in Haiti, and none written by a Haitian. Furthermore, even though I watched news coverage of the 2010 earthquake, I really didn’t get a sense of the complete horror of the aftermath until finishing this book.

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[Zilla Jones · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is a promising debut. It takes us back to the earthquake that rocked Haiti in 2010, and the stories of a fictitious Haitian president, his new wife, Natasha, a young Haitian artist forty years his junior who longs to leave the island, and her secret lover and cabinet minister, Alain Destiné. While the tragedy of the earthquake is apparent, the book is actually comic, and it works.

Of Natasha, we learn near the beginning “As a child, she’d worshipped pilots, as though they were angels, angels who ferried people off her island and into the endless blue sky...” We learn why so many Haitians are desperate to leave the island, after slavery, the interference of their neighbours, massacres by the Dominican Republic, mismanagement or outright tyranny by their own leaders. Léger spreads the blame around, not concentrating it on any one person. The book is a bit disjointed in that there is an imagined sequence of the Haitian Presidents going to heaven to face St Peter that, while funny and informative, does not really match the rest of the book.

While the descriptions of the earthquake are lovely - “She felt as though God had swept down and withdrawn all love from around her” - they go on a bit too long and we remain stuck on the moment of the earthquake for longer than necessary. And while the transformation of hatred and shame for Haiti to love for the country is hopeful (and sparks hope in me for my far-away Haitian roots) the ending is a bit contrived and unsatisfying. Nonetheless, this was a pleasant read and I look forward to more from the author.

[Laura Hoffman Brauman · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you take away the setting (Haiti immediately following the devastating earthquake of 2010), this is the story of a love triangle - a young artist, her new, much-older husband - the president of Haiti, and her lover - a dashing young man. Will she leave with her husband? Will she go back to her lover? Does her husband know about the other man? Will her lover get out of the closet she has locked him in? It has all the elements of a comedy - and there are some sharp observations and darkly comic moments in here. All that being said, this book is set as the earthquake is happening and in the devastation immediately following - and the contrast of the setting with the storyline is significant. There is so much loss and pain in here that I sometimes missed some of the elements that I think were supposed to be humorous. There are no punches pulled in the descriptions of the deaths and injuries that occurred or the grim reality of trying to recover with few resources after such an enormous tragedy. Grief and faith are central themes of the novel and the interplay of the grief of the three main characters and their faith is explored.

I appreciated the critique of the history of American intervention in Haiti - it's not something I know much about, but clearly is something I need to understand better.

[Katie · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really enjoyed most of this book, but I knocked a star off for how much I disliked the ending. The bulk of this story about the 2010 earthquake in Haiti was an impressive blend of dark humor and sincere human emotion. The many ways people reacted to tragedy felt true-to-life. The dark humor was used to great effect to comment on Haitian politics and history. As someone who knew little about Haiti previously, I was given enough context that I felt I could follow this commentary. I also enjoyed the use of religious imagery. It was a clear theme that was easy to pick up on and, if I'm totally honest, that made me feel like a good reader. The ending was the only let down. It wasn't clear exactly what happened. What was revealed didn't feel believable to me and without an explanation of how we got there from here, the ending didn't work for me.This review was originally posted on Doing Dewey

[Thomas Pugh · Rating 2 out of 5]

If this novel was a cup of coffee it would be a tepid mug of stale own-brand instant. 30%

I had high hopes for this book. Haiti is a country I have been fascinated by for a long time and the reviews were good. It centres around three characters, the President of Haiti, his wife, and his wife's lover, in the aftermath of the 2012 earthquake.

From the lack of plot or quotation marks I suspect this was intended to be a literary novel. It wildly missed that marked. It doesn't really say or do anything. The three protagonists are carboard cut outs. That start with little-to-know depth, and fail to develop through out the book.

Passages of the book read like a bad Mills and Boon, but even these forays into genre fiction fail to add interest.

The only thing that saves this novel from being a 1* review are the vaguely interesting depictions of life on the ground following the disaster. The sense of confusion and lack of information comes across reasonably well, and also the sense of ambivalence towards the 'saviors' coming in from the western world.

[Ryan · Rating 4 out of 5]

So close to 5 stars, but I could not force myself to roundup. It was tragic, and hysterical all at once, so you’d think I could give it an easy 5 stars.

A few problems: some of the characters (the movie actor, and Bobo specifically) seemed almost ridiculous given the major plot points they were meant to carry. Also, the King James Bible in a convent seemed way out of place. While this is a tiny detail, it really stuck in my craw.

The good: the masterful weaving of Haitian history and culture with the aftermath of one of the most heartbreaking and terrible events of our young millennium was beautiful to read. I especially loved the sirens of the Catholic Church, American money and sex that draws everyone in and seems to create far more problems than it solves.

[Hardy · Rating 4 out of 5]

I began this book on my flight to Haiti for my second trip there. Its native Haitian author paints a rich and emotionally gripping study of Port-au-Prince in the aftermath of the catastrophic 2010 earthquake there. Told through the eyes and thoughts of three connected narrators, the story sprinkles moments of humor and persistent hope among the overall chaos. "God Loves Haiti" beautifully captures both the frustration and the resiliency of a nation that has suffered far too much, and is a novel to which I'm sure to return.

[Leigh · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved the writing and even more loved this window into a time and place I know little about apart from what I read in the news. It takes place the day of the 2010 earthquake in Haiti and follows three people as they try to find each other in the ruins of Port au Prince.

I loved how it showed so much more of what Haiti is and means than we usually see on TV or in news media. Through the story and characters, it shows family relationships, poverty, class differences and how different people relate to spirituality (far beyond vodou).

[shana · Rating 5 out of 5]

I hope that Mr. Léger will write more books. I was so impressed with this one and all the more when I found out that it was his first novel. There were many moments or short meditations that really grabbed me such as when the priest says that the earthquake was evidence of God's love for Haiti. As an American I also appreciated the shots at our culture and global attitudes. The book also prompted me to look into the history of Haiti.

[Kisha · Rating 3 out of 5]

It was challenging to get into at first because I was thrust into characters lives in a way that didn't allow me much opportunity to empathize with them. It got better as the book went on; however, the language often seemed overwrought and the ending seemed to neat and tidy--particularly the epilogue.